


Growing Pains

by Kara_Meir



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Blood Poisoning, Budding Love, Caves, Darkspawn, Growing up elven, Honoring tradition, Nature, Vallaslin, gypsy life, shennanigans, spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4554723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kara_Meir/pseuds/Kara_Meir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into the life of Mahariel before she became the Warden we all know and love. With occasional interrupts by Tamlen and other minor characters. What was it like for our Dalish elf growing up? Snaphots and insights into who Sabrae Mahariel used to be. (This story first posted on my fan fic profile Kara-Meir)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> A Mahariel/Tamlen childhood fic with occasional interruptions by Marethari. Since Tamlen has no last name I gave him his clan's name. A pre-Origins view of our lovely Dalish Warden's childhood until just before she leaves for Ostagar. It's a little… different than what I usually write but for a first post what the hell, why not.
> 
> A few side notes before we part ways:
> 
> Picture Mahariel's vallaslin like a variation of Mithra's from Zathrian's clan and the Dalish Origin pic.
> 
> When Mahariel wears the Dalish armor, picture it as a cross between the Dalish Leather Armor set and the armor from the Dalish Elf Origin pic.
> 
> Read and review otherwise this author might explode.

A thousand years may come and go

Without you I shall surely know

From birth to death never apart

A solitary existence

A lonely start

The days pass by

Each step fresh pain

To know I've lost my love

One day together again

From the moment they were both placed into the arms of the Keeper, Marethari knew trouble would follow those two like Exalted Marches followed the clans. Tamlen Sabrae with his golden hair fussed like any other newborn babe, while Sabrae Mahariel blinked her green, owlish eyes and lay there quietly with a head full of blackened hair and a smile looking up into Marethari's eyes, searching for something.

Apparently the newborn found what she sought, for after that she snuggled into the Keeper's bosom and fell asleep. Marethari's heart broke just a little at this, as she knew the road ahead would be full of struggle and heartache for the little orphan and her companion. So she spoke a prophecy of sorts, a beacon of hope to light the way.

"Child, someday soon your trials will come. The road ahead is uncertain, but you have plenty of time to chart your course. Keep the old ways, and you shall never be alone."

When the little ones first started learning how to walk, wherever Mahariel toddled off to, Tamlen would follow. One would inevitably plop down on wobbly legs and the other would follow just as fast. In the way known to all little ones, they would start babbling to each other in a secret language each seemed to know. After a while in an effort to save bruised bottoms, they'd crawl around Master Ilen's legs until he abandoned his latest project to scoop them up and keep them out of trouble.

The day they were given their future roles for adulthood in the Sabrae clan, she cried for an hour when Tamlen appeared to wander off without her. She happily stopped sulking when he appeared with two bows and a Hahren willing to teach them to shoot it. Hours later they appeared back at camp with scraped, dirt covered knees, twigs and leaves scattered about in tangled knots of hair. The Hahren sent to teach them appeared puzzled and slightly astonished, with the same amount of dirt and tree covering him, as if he couldn't quite believe how much trouble those two were bound to get into. Every look appearing on his face sent first Tamlen and then Mahariel falling over in fits of laughter, causing the nearest clan members to stop their tasks and observe this abnormality.

Hahren Paivel was in charge of teaching the young ones the lore and customs of the Dalish clans, and when time permitted, the ways of flat-ears in the Shemlen cities. It was much to his utter lack of surprise that he was able to avoid the events that would forever afterwards be labeled as the Day of Fen'Harels return. When the two masterminds behind it were caught, nobody was surprised to see the two soot covered troublemakers, hints of gold coming from one head, and raven wing under the ash from the second. Almost immediately after being questioned thoroughly by the Keeper and Ashalle, Mahariel confessed to coming up with the idea and planning the entire chain of events. After a story about magic from Marethari on demons, Merrill had been quite frightened and almost shaking in her boots, and that's when they struck.

Having gathered up ash from the previous night's bonfire, Tamlen and Mahariel proceeded to cover their bodies in the soot and rub berries around the corners of their mouths and eyes to simulate blood. They then hid in an Aravel when Merrill would be walking by it, and jumped out to scare her into thinking Ash Wraiths were after her. Merrill didn't just scream loud enough to wake the Elders slumbering under In Uthenara, she also instinctively started casting spells to ward off attackers, namely fireballs, animal summoning, and rock armor. It took two days to gather all the Halla back up, and another day or so to convince the clan their Aravels were safe from more fireballs and packs of rampant wild bunnies.

"That child will either be the savior of our kind or a bane to all existence..."

Around the fifteenth name-day of Tamlen and Mahariel came the ten year Gathering of the Clans, the Arlathvenn. Over the years Mahariel had grown into quite the fiery temper, with Tamlen being one of the few able to calm her down from the unfortunate rages. So when she catches another forest child from Clan Alerion flirting with Tamlen, fire rains down from the Fade, trees converse with passersby, swords sprout from every nook and cranny in stone back home near Highever, and blood mages cavort freely with Templars. Or that's what Mahariel is envisioning this feels like. She's not quite sure what to make of it, this feeling, never having felt it before. Tamlen though, is the root of the problem so for the next few days of the gathering she avoided him like the Blight.

On the way back to Ferelden he tries to speak with Mahariel but she still brushes him off. In a clearing deep in the forests of Orlais he follows her when she sneaks out to wander off. After many twists and turns he is discovered and Mahariel isn't happy about being followed. After furious arguing and heated explanations, she darts forward and kisses Tamlen breathlessly. His eyes go wide, heart beats faster, and kisses her back.

"I've always wanted to do that..."

The trials surrounding the Vallaslin were passed down the generations longer than anyone can remember. It is unknown if the elves of Arlathan practiced Blood Writing or if this custom was adopted after the fall of the Dales. A nervous energy fills all those who on this day become fully-fledged members of the clan, and leave the carefree life of childhood behind. Mahariel and Tamlen have both earned the right to gain the mark of adulthood, and so they wait their turn with the Keeper. To keep herself occupied Mahariel grabs Tamlen's hand and steadies herself with a tight grip. Hours later, the deed is done.

The mark of Mythal the Protector adorns her face, and Tamlen is graced with the mark of Andruil, goddess of the Hunt. He will be a hunter and provide for the clan, while Mahariel is destined to be a protector, guarding against harm to the clan in all forms. After all are done receiving the marks, Hahren Paivel speaks to them.

"When the children of our people come of age, they earn the privilege of wearing the vallaslin, the blood writing. It sets us apart from the shemlen, and from the flat ears who have thrown their lot in with them. It reminds us that we will never again surrender our traditions and beliefs. We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit."

Some creatures are too powerful to be taken down by mere weapons alone. To protect the clan, all measures must be taken to ensure their well-being and safety. Although some may think it a less than honorable path, Mahariel didn't care what others had to say and so she learned how to brew and deploy poisons, and by necessity, elf root potions. Today she would be hunting down and slaying a wolf that had viciously murdered some of the Halla, leaving bits of bloody fur and scraps behind. In case it managed to slip past her defenses she had a special surprise for it in the form of some laced arrows.

Days later and she is still tracking it, the conniving little bastard has managed to outsmart every trap she's laid out. Mahariel's fiery temper and roguish nature do not allow for such a slight to pass unnoticed. Suddenly, the forest seems quieter than usual, less frantic. The wolf is somewhere near, flashes of white fur streaking through out of the corner of her eye, watching her, hunting her, marking her as its prey.

She sleeps in the protection of the trees praying to Andruil for success in this quest, Ghilan'nain for guidance in avenging her children, Mythal for protection against this savage beast, and as a last resort, Fen'Harel to keep one of his many children from tearing her throat out before she has a chance to kill it. The day before she managed to hit one of its hind legs with a deathroot arrow and the only reason she wasn't feasting on wolf hide was because she tripped over a root and tumbled down a hill into a small stream. That is one thing she would NOT be sharing back in the Aravel.

A low growl and heaving snarl are all the warning Mahariel gets before the wolf jumps off its perch on a large boulder onto her back. Sneaky bastard tears into her armor leaving scratch marks that travel across the exposed flesh. Screaming in pain from a searing poison seeping into the wound she throws the beast off into a thorn bush leaving it to tangle itself with the poisonous plant. She pulls an arrow out to shoot the thing with but it yanks out of the bush and latches itself onto her left forearm, shaking its head viciously, spreading the poison further and clenching powerful jaws ever tighter.

With a labored shout Mahariel grasps the arrow firmly and stabs the white wolf in the side of its neck. He lets go of the previously chewed upon limb and whimpers as her poison takes effect. A shadow seems to leave the wolf at that point, stopping to hover in the air for a moment before dissipating back to where it came from. Mahariel collapses next to the body of the wolf, too tired to move another inch. Moments later with a stifled groan she pushes herself off the forest floor to gulp down a healing potion and scream out a hoarse victory call, and then a prayer to the gods for the soul of the seemingly possessed creature.

"Mother Mythal hear my prayers. Justice for the clan has been met, the Halla we lost avenged. Ghilan'nain sweet goddess, your children suffer no more. May they feast forever at your side on the sweetest grass, the clearest water, and the boundless glades of your eternal love. Andruil I thank you for a victorious chase, the hunt this day ends well. And to you... Falon'Din. Your child was no match for me, but he fought well and honored your cunning nature Dread Wolf. My path this day is done."

She shouldn't have let them leave the safety of the clan. Too many shemlen nearby in that village not including the unexplored part of the forest they were currently camped in. The cave had appeared out of thin air, they had been through this place many times and no hunter ever reported a cave! Mahariel had been found outside that accursed place, Tamlen was nowhere to be found, and had not woken for three days. Some dark evil had sunk itself into her blood and was trying to assume control. Even Marethari's magic was almost too little to combat the evil.

As a last, terrible resort, she had called for help from Asha'bellanar, someone to be called upon only in dire situations. A raven had flown into the tent where Mahariel lay battling fevered dreams and gut-wrenching nightmares. Asha'bellanar rose up into her human form and stood over Mahariel's prone form, contemplating. After many tense, silent moments she bade Marethari leave and come only when all light inside had gone out. Marethari left and the long lived one went to work. For hours flashing lights, fearsome roars, and agonizing screams came out of the tent, but no one dared enter for fear of killing the only chance left to save one of their own. When the darkest moment of night came upon them, Asha'bellanar rose from her work, and let the Keeper inside.

"As promised, your elven lass is alive… for now. Unless she leaves for the Grey Wardens and undertakes the Joining no spirit, demon, or spell will be able to save her. When the time comes, the debt you owe will be repaid. There are few things in this world more powerful than a promise kept. Remember that."


End file.
